Finding a Mission
by Loopy Darling
Summary: Why didn’t Spike get on that boat to Europe? One-Shot.


Find a Mission

Summary: Why didn't Spike get on that boat to Europe? One-Shot.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fred, Spike, Dawn, Buffy, Angel, or Rome. I think that's all I used…

Rating: Erm, I used some swears, but that's about it.

A/N: Right after Spike and Angel brawl over the cup o' Mountain Grossness, but before Fred goes blue.

Spike let out a deep breath and stared at the phone in front of him. He was finally ready to do it, to pick up the handset and call. He had been talking himself up to it for at least an hour now, Fred sitting across from him, watching. He extended his hand towards the receiver, his eyes never leaving hers. In his mind he was imagining that she was taunting him, daring him to do it. He could never back down from a dare. The air was thick with tension. His fingers touched the smooth plastic and then…

"But what the hell does one say in such a situation?" Fred let out an exasperated breath that she didn't even realize she was holding and rolled her eyes.

"I'm sorry Spike, I can't do this anymore!" She said, hopping to her feet, on the edge of hysteria. "We've gone over this at least ten times now!"

"Have we?"

"Yes! Yes we have. First you say: 'What the hell does one say in such a situation?'" she mimicked his accent (not well he noticed) and dropped her voice. "and then I say: 'I love you, I miss you, I wanna come see you.' And then you say 'I couldn't possibly begin the conversation like that!' and then you pull out your resolve and reach for the phone and the whole thing starts all over again!" Spike looked down at his hand that was still resting lightly on the receiver.

A pitiful "Oh," was all he could think to say. Fred huffed.

"Spike I'm telling you right now, I'm not standing around here all day for this. Now you pick up that gosh darned receiver and dial right now or I'm leaving! I do have an entire department of an evil money machine to manage you know!" She sounded a bit more than on edge at this point and Spike immediately felt embarrassed. Which then, as always, made him feel annoyed.

"Look luv, it's not like I can just pick up the phone and say 'Hi honey, I'm alive!' Maybe I should just forget this whole phone call thing and go to her." Fred stared at him in disbelief for a moment before letting out a tiny snort of laughter.

"You're a wuss." She declared merrily. It took him a second to realize that the tiny texan was taunting him.

"I'm sorry, you just called me a _what _now?" His tone took on a bit of an edge.

"A wuss. I mean, you walk around all 'I'm the big bad' with your leather coat and nasty smirk, but deep down you're a big baby." She teased, bubbling with amusement.

"Wh- I _am not_!"

"Are too! You can't even pick up the phone and call a girl that's on the other side of the equator! The worst thing she can do is hang up, and you are _afraid_ of her!" Spike growled his nastiest growl.

"Afraid my ass!" He exclaimed and before he knew it the phone was pressed to his ear and he had hit the five on Angel's personal speeddial - the number labelled BUFFY in big capital letters. His eyes grew wide in realization of what he had just done as the phone began to ring. He almost slammed it back down again when the ringing stopped and someone spoke.

"Hello?" He was paralysed. Fred urged him on with a look. "Hello?" the voice repeated impatiently. It was not Buffy on the other end. He could hang up now and no one would even know it was him. The seconds ticked past and he said nothing. "Look, I'm hanging up now…" He watched Fred's face fall in disappointment. If he didn't do something now, he really would be a wuss. Gathering his nerve, he said her name.

"Dawn." The other one.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Fred flashed him her sweet smile and left the room, shutting the door gently behind herself. Supportive. Caring. A smile that a friend would give, but he would ponder that another time as the voice on the other end of the receiver returned.

"Wh-who is this?" her voice shook, almost as bad as if she were seeing him in front of her out of the blue, because he knew she knew who he was. A few months didn't erase someone like Spike from one's memory. He was kinda a memorable guy.

"You know who this is luv." He thought so too.

"Spike?" And there it was, and he lost his chance to run away.

"Yeah, it's me." There was silence on the line for a few moments and he sat himself down into Angel's comfy leather desk chair, propping his muddy boots up onto the pristine oak desk. _Nice to be able to track mud around again._

"Where are you? Why are you calling us on the _phone_?" Okay, not exactly the response he was expecting, but this was probably a better response anyway. Direct, to the point. He could definitely answer with certainty both questions.

"Hm," he picked at a flaw in the armrest, or perhaps he made it himself it wasn't out of the question. Even subconsciously he loved to destroy anything that belonged to his grandsire. Often he did it without even noticing. "Right now, I am sitting on a big comfy throne in the middle of a giant corporate beast."

"Oh."

"And the phone was handy." he added, feeling a little gypped by her monosyllabic response.

"So not Hell then?"

"Depends on your definition of Hell I suppose." he shrugged, and even though she couldn't see him in front of her, she could see him in her mind's eye doing exactly that. "They do enjoy inflicting torture here. Fire and brimstone - all that."

"So you're not dead either then?" Only a small tinge of annoyance. Just enough to cut through all the bullshit.

"Depends on your definition of dead, pet." Why does no-one remember what vampire means?

"I could hang up." she threatened with a scowl he couldn't see. She knew he had been trying to push her buttons.

"I could call back." He felt like sticking out his tongue. He and Dawn had always been in some undeclared competition for who was the most immature. Seems that he was once again taking the lead. And then the silence returned, and he knew she was angry with him. There were a million reasons why she should be, and he wasn't sure which one it was, but he did know that he didn't want it. In a surprise move, immaturity gave way to sincerity. "Don't hang up on me love, it would break my heart."

"I thought you were dead Spike! I thought you were dead and now you're calling me on the phone!" Her voiced raised a little, and shook a little with suppressed emotion. "Why are you calling on the phone? Why aren't you here with us?"

"If only I were, but there are… complications…" My very existence threatening to tip the universe into a state of chaos for example…

"If the next word out of your mouth is Buffy… Never mind, of course it's Buffy, it's always Buffy. Do you want to talk to her." He was a little taken aback by her response. Actually, no. He was a little pissed off at her response. '_Oh woe is me for my name is Dawn'_

"Did I _ask_ to talk to Buffy?" He challenged her back.

"Not with your words Spike." But of course it's just assumed. The voice of self sacrificing resignation has spoken. Yeah, now _that_ was Buffy. Didn't even need to talk to her, her bloody sister could _channel_ her.

"I'll have you know that there is more to me than Buffy! Why does no one get that? You know before she was even born I was the completely separate person. Had my own separate personality and everything!"

He was suddenly beginning to remember how Buffy could be just a little bit annoying.

"Geez, offend easy lately? I just assumed that's why you called." She muttered defensively. Backtracking, trying to make it look like he was the one giving attitude. Teenagers are a contradictory creature - half the time screaming to be noticed, and the rest they were denying that they ever screamed. Although she may have had reason. He did just spend the last hour (according to Fred who may or may not have been exaggerating) waiting to hear _Buffy's _voice.

"Well… it is why I called, but I still want to talk to you too." Dawn let out a sigh that sounded almost relieved. Spike marvelled at how much she had… not changed, but he liked her just the way she was before anyway didn't he? He felt the small nostalgic smile cross his face.

"So, corporate hell huh? That's kinda the last place I would expect you to be." She made a good attempt at neutral small talk.

"Not my hellhole." He wasn't sure if that sounded resentful or not. Fucking Angel.

"You're with Angel then?" She always did catch on quick. "I heard he was a, uh, evil lawyer now." And _that_ just never got old.

"Yeah well, he's still the same ole' Angel, just with twelve cars and lots of little minions."

"Weren't you one of his little minions." Now it's Dawn at the lead for the immaturity contest.

"Now _I'm_ hanging up." And he's back in the game!

"Sorry."

"No you're not."

"No, I'm not." There was that whiny defensive nobody-loves-me-anymore voice creeping back in. Who was he kidding? She would _always _be most immature. She was Miss Immature America. "You came back from the dead and now you're hanging out with brood boy in his big shiny castle. First off, I thought you had better taste, and secondly hello? Ever think to look up the closest thing that passes for family?"

"Well, technically that would be Angel…"

"Oh." Short. Sad. He could see the downtrodden look on her face. He hated that look. It had always been a vicious cycle with that look. It would make him hate himself, and then hate her for that, and then hate himself again for hating her, and then one more time for caring that he hated her. And that was when he was _evil._

"Don't do that." Not like he could stop it. The cycle has already begun.

"Don't do what?" Innocence. First Evil bow down and count your blessings. The queen has arrived. And its scary.

"That thing you're doin. That sad little pouty thing."

"I'm not pouting. I'm… thinking."

"There are things that need to be done here love, you don't understand. There's this prophecy, Angel and I are throwing the world out of whack, I need to be here just in case…" And the excuses fell apart, imagining her little heart breaking - or at the very least kinda bruising. He knew she had this whole thing about people leaving and damned if he would be _that_ guy. _Angel _was that guy. "Ask me to come to Rome and I will." He was surprised at himself. Or maybe at his own stupidity. At how accommodating he is/has been/always will be when it comes to a pretty girl. He knew she wasn't surprised in the least.

"Spike… you have things to do. You just got done saying it." Her tone was reserved. She was holding it back, she wanted to tell him to get on the next plane out and break down their door and storm back into their lives like they were still the only things that mattered. She wanted him to pat her on the head like she was some obnoxious kid, and she wanted him to sweep Buffy up into his arms and kiss her and tell her he loves her, and she especially wanted to see Buffy punch him in the nose in retaliation.

"I know I have things to do, but if you tell me to come to Europe I will. You know I will Dawn." It was no good him saying it unless she asked. His ego would never live it down.

"I know you will. Spike, life hasn't been the same without you here. Buffy… just isn't the same." He nodded his head, even though she couldn't see him. "She would want you to come back." Seven simple words that almost made unlife worth living.

"But you can't come back." And we're back to reality. Now there was the shocker. Never in a million years did he expect Dawn Summers to say that. He felt like he was being flattened by a Mack truck, license plate: Summers.

Familiar fucking truck.

"Finish what you need to do with Angel. Get your life sorted out before you even think about walking back through our door." He supposed she had changed a little afterall. "Make sure that you're done whatever you need to do when you come back to us, because when it happens, you can't leave again. Come home Spike, but make sure that you're ready." And he knew he would listen to her, he knew after he put down this receiver he wouldn't go to Europe on the next ship, he wouldn't even call again. There was something keeping him in Los Angeles and he was going to figure out what it was and finish it.

And then he could go home.

And he would do it for Dawn. He loved Buffy more than anything in the world. Buffy would tell him to come back now or never, but it was Dawn who picked up the telephone. It was Dawn who told him what to do, and he never could resist a Summers woman. The truck never really did hit him, it just dragged his bloody corpse along behind it unrelentingly.

"I love you pet." He said softly.

"I love you too." she said back. "And so does she." Genuine emotion. None of that self important teen angst bull-crap, but actual feeling. And for the first time since burning up in that hellhole Spike felt like he was really really ready to face whatever was coming. He felt, as cheesy and overdone as it sounds - awakened.

As if she was summoned up like a ghost, he heard her then in the background. Buffy.

"Dawn! I'm home! Who are you talking to?"

That's what she said, but for some reason he heard something else.

"Bye luv." He said softly once more before placing the receiver back into it's cradle. Time to find a mission, so that he could finish it as soon as bloody possible.

"Nobody."

Well, there it is, I hope you like it. I've never taken so long to do a one-shot before. And I've never actually posted any Angel fic before so please, drop me a line and tell me how it was okay?


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